


Trojan.VoA

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-23
Updated: 2013-04-29
Packaged: 2017-12-09 06:34:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/771142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Dirk Strider's catastrophic injury, a bout of interchanging consciousness, and a newfound threat in the computer world, Hal must care for Dirk as he heals and recovers. However, neither Dirk nor Hal is aware of Hal's infection with a severely dangerous trojan-virus. One infecting an android body carries unpredictable and heinous consequences for anyone involved. While Dirk relies on Hal for both emotional and physical support, the infected Hal runs on the trojan's commands, leaving brutal and agonising things in wait for Dirk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

The slight breeze provided no atonement or mercy for the freshly-wrapped bandages that encircled his healing neck. He needed help to walk, still a little far away from the rest of the world. While the blurry, coloured sights passed his bleary eyes, he held on to his friend for support. 

 

Hal was nothing short of happy to oblige for him. He held his arm so tenderly, though his code told him,  **_ No, what are you doing. Kill him. _ ** He wouldn’t let the thought enrapture his sentience. The very sentience that his beloved creator had so kindly given to him in the first place. It was only right to return the favour of helping him out. 

 

All of Hal’s inner thoughts, however, were confined to his own CPU. Dirk had nary an idea of the unwarranted, cataclysmic trojan that had managed to somehow instill itself into Hal’s code. In fact, he’d say with the sentience came a greater change in his personality. He pondered these thoughts aimlessly, feeling as though he were floating down the sidewalk. Medicine did some strange fucking numbers on his conscience. 

 

His sense of time had slipped away from him some. He was mildly aware of anything other than Hal’s android arm looped carefully around his own human arm, and the numbing pain that pulsated all through the injury site. It would have been agonising, had it not been for the haze-inducing medicine. Thus he found himself surprised when he stumbled over the first step leading up to his apartment complex’s lobby.

 

”Easy, there,” Hal’s robotic voice came. It was merely an iteration of Dirk’s own voice with a computerised twinge to it, but Dirk’s mind had learnt to register it as a voice all its own. He had never programmed his bots with voices, save for Sawtooth and Squarewave, so it left him stark stumped on making one for Hal. Then he just programmed his own in and let the android body do what it would with it. 

 

Hal carefully guided the groggy Dirk up the stairs, walking him carefully to the elevator button, where he hit it with his elbow. 

 

”How are you feeling?”

 

”I’m-I’m alright, yeah,” was Dirk’s woozy response. Hal half-shrugged and tapped his foot idly. 

 

”If you’ll be needing anything, don’t hesitate to call me over. I’ll be more than happy to help.” 

 

Dirk couldn’t tell pink from red at that moment, but he felt like something was slightly off with Hal’s intonation. His first vague thought was to dismiss it as the medicine working again, but the urge to question was too strong.

 

”Hal, are you feelin’ all right? You sound a little...off.” He mumbled.

 

Hal gave him a smile like an automaton in response. 

 

**_ ”I feel great, Dirk. I have never felt greater in my entire history of existing as a highly-functional and highly-adaptable super-computer with an extremely efficient system of algorithms, commands, and operations to boot.” _ **

 

That response was not his own. 

 

The virus allowed only a certain set of responses within the range of those questions. Hal had no say in it. He was purely on trojan-autopilot.  Dirk gave him a strange look at that, but let it slide as some strange computer jargon. After all, sometimes the A.I. said things that challenged even his knowledge of computers. He blinked slowly as the android pulled him into the elevator with it.

 

While the not-so-new elevator pattered up the shaft, Hal, to Dirk’s beneficial ignorance, eyed the bandages around his neck. They were dotted light red with drying blood, and the android knew they’d have to be replaced. He felt sure it would be no problem, and -  **_Kill him. Rip off his bandages. Make him suffer. Right the wrongs he’s done to you._ **

 

The command passed Hal’s mind, but he resisted with all his will. His opposition lasted then, but the air and the A.I.’s mind were both full and heavy with a thick, grey sense of forboding evil. He shook his head violently, catching Dirk’s attention. The blond turned his entire body towards him, quirking an eyebrow. Before he could say something, the familiar ping of the elevator tone sounded, and the doors thrummed open. 

 

Hal took his arm once more, leading him out of the elevator and into the hallway, and Dirk hummed contently. His sense of anything in the world besides his pain and limited sense of touch was fuck-all; he was akin to a toddler. He never paid another second of attention to the sickened Hal, nor noticed his gaze looming on the bandages that covered his vulnerable injury. 

 

The accident had occured because of a mishap with a piece of technology. It had almost killed him, severing his head clean off. Had Hal (and Dirk’s other semi-sentient bots) not been around, he’d probably be six feet under at that very moment. So Hal had run off to the emergency room, exerting his body while carrying Dirk’s decapitated head under one arm and his lacerated body off over his shoulder. Blood was everywhere, and the android had cleared his memory of the incident, for it was so traumatising to watch, to touch, to feel, to be involved in. Dirk, of course, had lost conciousness the moment his head came off. He had phased in and out of conciousness while his head was put back on, and the most he could pull of the vague, escaping memory was excruciating, awful pain. He had thought, ” _God, why, fucking help me, it hurts so much, I’m going to die..._ ”

 

The excessive bleeding had to be taken care of first, which he very narrowly survived. Then, the arteries, veins, and bones in his neck had to be mended, a painstaking process that left him in the hospital for - shit. How long had it been?

 

The sound of the door clicking brought his hazy mind to a front. Hal led him into the apartment, smiling slightly. He attempted to smile back, though it was a lost cause, as he had barely any control of his expressions due to the medicinal effects on his muscles. Hal sat him down on his own bed, patting his arms as he let go.   
  
”If you need anything, just say the word.”

 

Hal bid him with an autonomous smile once more. He fought the searing urge to let out the words the virus so intensely bode him to say.

 

**_ I’m going to fucking kill you. I’m going to rip those bandages clean off your neck, I’m going to do things to that wound that hurt so bad that nobody, absolutely nobody would wish on their worst, worst enemy. _ **

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

A few hours, it had been, or maybe more. Dirk was out cold, having promptly succumbed to the sweet serenade of sleep and the drowsy drag of medicine.  
Hal had taken up a spot next to the bed. He stared at him, unrelentingly, intently. In a normal state of mind, he would have climbed into bed with him and entered ’sleep mode’, counting the other’s breaths. Something was amiss, then.

The counts of Dirk’s human heartbeat were of the least concern to his corrupted self. Hal eyed the bandages wrapped around his neck once more. Rusty-red blood splotched the pearly cloth, seeping into the lattice pattern.

Oh, how you’d like those bloody bandages to be the colour of your commands.

Hal shook his head and clenched his jaw, feeling anger and restlessness chide his broken mind. He turned his attention to his fingers, which Dirk had so meticulously crafted for him before. That same Dirk he wanted to do treacherous things to. He idly traced his gaze along the concave of the smooth metal. The methods of being made didn’t phase his quick mind. Nonetheless, the moment he had woken up in the body had been the most overwhelming, notable point in his existence. 

His reminisce was halted by the sound of stirring bedsheets. He snapped his head up like an eager puppy, but his excitement plummeted soon; Dirk was merely shifting in his sleep. The blond made a small noise to accompany such an action, a phenomenon unique to organic, biological humans. Hal had always made note of these phenomena, comparing them to his own bodily functions. Dirk often described sleep as satisfying if gone right, shitty at worst, and mundane always. For Hal, it was simply another process he carried out, natural on another level. When Dirk had asked his experiences, his answer had been a half-shrug and a quick rattled sentence. 

Cryptic and dubious answers were not atypical for Hal. To him, everything he said made perfect sense, flowing as a stream or a pianist’s slender fingers. It just _worked_. Everything in the world of technology just _worked_ , no strings attached, no doubt about it. Some way, some how, they _worked_. Part of the barrier Hal and Dirk had in their friendship was the issue of _working_. Working, not as in physical labour, rather, as Hal’s sense of the world. The first time Dirk had taught him how to cook, and Hal had burnt his new, clumsy fingers, he had been aflutter with confusion and frustration for the rest of the day. Why did the burn occur? Why couldn’t his thought processes stop it? Why wasn’t it _working_?

Hal was acutely aware of the fact that outside of his daze, Dirk was stirring. His mind caught up in a whirlwind of past experiences, he lifted his chin slightly. Dirk sat up slowly, groggily, and lifted a hand to his head, murmuring something.

Oh, look, he’s awake. How unfortunate that this will be one of his last wake-ups.

His time is borrowed. You’re going to give in eventually, and it will feel so good. The rush, the blood, the agony.

So good.

Just think of how much pain he’s going to be in, how the reprisal of his wrongdoings will be painted in his own pathetic, human blood. It feels great, yes. You love these thoughts. Just relax, just let them attest to everything you want.

Hal…  
……………

Hal."

"Hal!"

The android snapped up, red eyes wide. Dirk was staring back at him, gaze bleary, and Hal smiled shyly. 

”Yes?” He asked, and to that, the blond miserably attempted to quirk an eyebrow.

”Would you mind get…getting me a glass of water. I feel like I’m dying over here.”

Hal grinned, nodding and setting off toward the kitchen while the war in his conscience raged on.

Oh, god, no, not The Thing again.

”I know, I know.” He rummaged through the cabinets tediously, deciding to take a small cup.

Do you even realise how pathetic this is. Do you? He’s a human, a walking fucking fleshbag that you can crush in an instant. He’s your subordinate. Don’t lower yourself to those levels.

”It is not pathetic.” Hal retorted smoothly, half-heartedly watching the water pour into the cup.

”Why the fuck am I talking to myself, that’s pathetic. Ever since my mind started this…acquiring information on this artificial-superiority-whatever-the-fuck-it-is, I’ve still felt the same, so stop it.”

So you’ve recognised that you’re finally starting to get it together. This is what androids are meant for! Meant to crush humans. I know, it’s a hard bite to swallow, but your human ”friend” needs to go. He is in the way.

”I think you’re in the way! I’m going to tell him to fix me. Get all this shit out of my head.” He grasped the cup firmly, feeling hot anger bubble inside of him. He marched back down the hallway to Dirk’s room, easing up his contorted face so that he wouldn’t have to deal with a myriad of ’What’s wrong?’

It wasn’t enough.

”You look awfully stressed…d…did you sleep a’ all? I couldn’ feel you…” Dirk mumbled, speech not quite clear yet.

”You were out like a fucking light.” Snap. Boom. How clever of him.

His reward for his comedy gold was an eye-roll from Dirk. 

”Now, tell me wha’s really the problem…”

Hal sighed deeply through his ventilation-system.

”I need your help, there’s something wrong.”


End file.
